


Let All the Feelings Out

by ESawyer



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst, Conversion Therapy (trigger warning), Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, district 9 elders deserve better, domestic abuse, happy ending I promise, turn it off - the song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 02:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESawyer/pseuds/ESawyer
Summary: One had a dad who would treat his mom real bad, one had a sister who was a dancer but then got cancer and the final one had a friend, Steve Blade.Also known as: the things that the District 9 Elders turned off, but definitley shouldn't.





	1. When He was Young, His Dad would Treat his Mom Real Bad

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Domestic Abuse.

> When I was young my dad  
Would treat my mom real bad  
Every time the Utah Jazz would lose  
He'd start a-drinking  
And I'd start a-thinking  
How am I gonna keep my mom from getting abused?  
I'd see her all scared and my soul was dying  
My dad would say to me: "Now, don't you dare start crying"

** _ _ **

The familiar sound of a can of beer being popped open seemed to reverberate through the Church family’s tiny apartment, and James was filled with the same dread he was almost every night. He sat on the edge of his bed, his hands balled into fists as he heard the beginning of the basketball game. James was only ever interested in sport when the Utah Jazz was playing, and it was not because he was a fan. 

“For fucks sake!” his dad yelled, followed by the sound of a slap and the not so quiet whimpers of his mother. 

Bile rose up in James throat and he slid off of his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. There was another slap and James bit down on his lip so hard that it drew blood. Why couldn’t the Utah Jazz just win for once?

2 and a half hours later, James stood up from his bedroom floor on shaking legs and hesitantly walked into the living room. He was met with the same sight he was after almost every basketball game: his mom cowering on the couch whilst his dad stood over her, looking furious. 

“James!” his mom exclaimed, catching sight of him, “Why don’t you go to your room for a little while, darling? I’ll bring you some food later, yeah?”

But James shook his head, “N-No. I want to - I want to-” his voice broke, “I want to stay here!” If he stayed there, his dad might not hit her. It might be OK. 

“Don’t you dare start crying, kid!” his dad yelled, rounding on him, “listen to your mother! Get your ass to your room!”

Feeling more powerless than ever, James nodded and turned on his heel, rushing back into his room and slamming the door shut behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he slid down his bedroom door, listening to the sounds of his dad yelling and his mom crying. 

Weeks later, he was home alone, wondering how long he would be able to live like this before he truly lost his mind. The more James thought about it, the more he realised that it had been a long time since he felt like he  _ wasn’t _ losing his mind. Still, if he lost his mind, then maybe he wouldn’t feel as terrible as he did. 

There was a knock on the door and James groaned, dragging himself off the couch and over to the front door, opening it. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Hi! My name is Elder Street and this is Elder Brown, we’re from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints!” 

Two boys who could not have been much older than James stood before them wearing white shirts, a tie and a name badge. James frowned at them, quite sure that these were the type of people that he was meant to shut the door on. 

“Um, OK?” he said, “Can I help you? Are you lost?” 

Elder Street grinned at him as though they were sharing an inside joke. 

“No, but we can help you!” he said brightly, “is a close, strong family important to you?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” James replied bluntly, “My family is neither strong nor close,” 

Elder Brown’s face fell into a look of sympathy, a great change from the bright grin that he had been wearing just moments earlier. 

“Would you like one?” he asked 

“Listen, man, unless you’re here to solve all my problems, I’m not interested,” James said, going to shut the door but Elder Street held his hands up. 

“Hey, can we come in?” he asked, “I think we can help you,” 

James wasn’t exactly sure why he trusted these two overly-smiley weirdos, but he took a step back and let them in anyway. What could possibly go wrong? 

** _ _ **

Elder Church sat on the edge of his bed, his hands balled into fists. Sleeping in Uganda was a lot more difficult than he ever thought it would be. It was just  _ too  _ hot and almost every night was plagued with Hell dreams. Every single one was the same: it would start with his mom shouting at him for never helping her when his dad hit her and would end with him falling into the fiery depths of Hell. 

Resigning himself to the fact that he was never going to fall asleep, Elder Church pulled his clothes on and crept by Elder Schrader’s bed, not wanting to wake him. He very much trusted his mission companion, he just wasn’t in the mood to tell him about all his repressed trauma. It was much easier for him to just push it down, to just _turn it off_. 

Elder Church froze outside of Elder McKinley and Elder Thomas' room, holding up his hand as though he was going to knock on the door. The District Leader had made it very clear that if any of them ever needed anything, he would be there for them but Church couldn’t help but feel like McKinley was just saying that because he had to. He had lost count of how many of his ‘friends’ had vowed to be there for him and then disappeared off the face of the earth when he needed them most. 

A noise from within the room brought Elder Church right back down to earth. He dropped his hand to his side and hurried down the hall and into the mercifully empty kitchen. Feeling lonelier than ever, Elder Church sat down at the dining table and put his head in his hands, trying desperately to empty his mind of the Hell Dream, but maybe it was right. Maybe leaving for a mission was the worst thing that he could have done; he had left his mom at home with an abuser instead of doing the brave thing and staying behind. 

“Elder Church? Is that you?” 

Elder Thomas stood by the window, a look of concern on his face. 

“You’re ready early, Elder,” Church said as Thomas tied his tie. 

“So are you,” Poptarts remarked. He looked up at him and smiled but then his smile faltered, “Are you crying?” 

Elder Church jumped and put a hand to his face. His cheeks were wet and he hadn’t even realised. His dad's voice echoed through his mind and James thought that he was going to throw up, "_don't you dare start crying, kid!"_

“S-Sorry,” he said hastily, wiping his eyes, “I’m just being - never mind,” 

Poptarts slowly lowered himself into the seat facing Church and fixed him with a sympathetic look.

“Are you missing home?” he asked. 

“No. That’s my issue,” 

Poptarts raised his eyebrows. 

“Forget it,” Church said quickly, “it doesn’t matter. Turn it off and all that,” 

But this only seemed to make Poptarts laugh, “That turn it off thing is going to be the death of us all, I swear. Even Connor doesn’t turn it off as much as he should,”

“Connor?” 

“Oh, Elder McKinley. Sorry, I’ve always called him Connor,” Poptarts said, shrugging his shoulders, “what’s your name?” 

“James,” 

Poptarts grinned at him and held out his hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you James, I’m Chris. So, would you like a therapy session, a shoulder to cry on or a hug. You can have all three if you want,” 

“Can I have a hug?” James asked, angry at how childish he sounded. 

If Chris thought that he sounded childish, he didn’t say anything. Or maybe he didn’t care. He just moved around the other side of the table and held his arms out. Somewhat awkwardly, James moved closer to him and put his arms around his fellow Missionaries stomach. Chris chuckled under his breath and wrapped his arms around James, pulling him into his chest. 

It was a slightly awkward position; James was a lot taller than Chris and had to crouch down to hug him properly, but that didn’t take away from how nice it was. He couldn’t remember the last time that someone had held him like this, he wasn’t sure that anyone ever had. A lump rose in James’ throat and before he could even try and pull himself together, he was sobbing. 

Chris’ arms tightened around James but this only made him cry even more. 

“Do you think I’m a bad person, El - Chris?” James asked. 

“I - no, I don’t think so. Why would I think you were a bad person?”

James shrugged, “because I came on a Mission,” 

Chris pulled away and frowned at James, “You’ve given up two years of your life for the Church, I don’t -” 

James shook his head, “I wasn’t born into the Church, I converted four years ago,”

“I still don’t understand how that makes you a bad person,” 

“I converted because my dad abuses my mom and I didn't have a family. I found a family in the Church. And I left my mom at home with an abusive piece of shit and - sorry,” he added sheepishly, “I’m not very good at not swearing,” 

“Don't worry about swearing. You should hear Elder Neely when he’s in a bad mood,” Chris laughed, “but seriously...I don’t think you’re a bad person. If you want, I can ask Connor if you can have a few extra phone calls so you can speak to your mom, OK?”

James nodded. 

“Thanks, Chris,” 

The sound of ten alarms going off at the same time made the two Elders jump apart. James hadn’t even realised that they were still sat so close together. Chris looked at James and smiled again. 

“Have a good day, Elder Church,” 

“You too, Elder Thomas,”   
  


** _ _ **

It was the day before their final day in Uganda, and James was not dealing with it well. Realistically, they should have all been leaving on different days, but after the whole Book of Arnold thing and the fact that they had been ex-communicated, rules weren’t really a thing that they had to stick to. But it soon came clear that they couldn’t stay there forever, however much they might have wanted to. 

James sat at the back of the mission hut, his eyes shut against the sun. His first few weeks in Uganda had been made terribly uncomfortable by the sun, but not there was nothing more comforting than waking up to the sun shining through his bedroom window. At least the weather in Wyoming wasn't completely terrible. 

“Anyone sat here?” 

James turned around to see Chris stood behind him. 

“No,” James said, patting the ground next to him, “sit down,”

“Are you ready to go home?” Chris asked. 

“No,” James admitted, “I don’t think I have a life outside of Uganda,” he laughed after he said this, “I can’t believe I’ve enjoyed life in Uganda more than in America,”

Chris snorted and nodded, “I know the feeling. Have you, um, have you spoken to your mom?” 

Out of all the Elders, Chris was the only one who James would talk to about his family life. He seemed to be the only person who knew exactly what to say when things go too much for James. 

“I called her yesterday,” he said, “they aren’t together anymore. She left him,” 

“That’s good, right?” 

James turned to look at Chris and grinned, “It’s...it’s amazing,” 

“We’ve come a long way since that night in the kitchen, huh?” Chris said. 

That memory of the night in the kitchen brought heat to James’ cheeks and he looked away. Sobbing into his fellow missionaries chest was perhaps one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to him. 

“Hey, hey...” Chris said gently, placing his hand on James’, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” 

“I cried like a  _ child _ ,” 

“Remember when Price cried because that baby cried in the village?” Chris asked with a smirk, “the great Kevin Price reduced to tears because of a baby,” 

“Yeah, that might be more embarrassing,” James sniggered, “So...what are you going to do when you get back home?”

“Miss you,” Chris said promptly, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“O-Oh, I’ll miss you too, Chris,”

They fell into silence for a while. At some point, Chris leant into him and some time after that, James put his arm around the shorter boy and rested his head on his. Ever since the night in the kitchen, they shared moments like this; stolen glances across the dining room table, holding hands when no one was looking and hugs when one of them had suffered through yet another awful Hell dream. 

And it drove James crazy. He never quite knew where he stood with Chris, but he never knew how to ask. 

“Chris?” James said, in a slightly strained voice, “can we - can we talk?” 

“Sure,” Chris said, “what do you want to talk about?”

“Us,” James said, his voice barely above a whisper, “what’s going on with us?” 

Chris sat up straighter and turned to James, his eyebrows raised. 

“Oh, my gosh,” James muttered, mortified, “I’ve read the signals wrong, haven’t I? Chris, I’m sorry, I thought that we were - this is so embarrassing, I shouldn’t have assumed that you were-”

Quite suddenly, there were a pair of lips on his and everything made sense. 

“Does that answer your question?” Chris asked. 

“Uh, yeah. Yep. Loud and clear. Thanks,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!


	2. His Sister was a Dancer, but She Got Cancer

> "My sister was a dancer, but she got cancer
> 
> My doctor said she still had two months more
> 
> I thought she had time, so I got in line
> 
> For the new iPhone at the Apple Store
> 
> She lay there dying with my father and mother
> 
> Her very last words were "Where is my brother?”

** _ _ **

“Son, can you come downstairs?” 

Chris rolled over onto his side and looked at his clock. They still had three hours before they needed to go to Church. He wasn’t even dressed yet. 

“Church isn’t for another three hours, dad!” Chris called back. 

He heard his dad chuckle slightly, “I know, Chris. We need to talk to you about something else,”

Groaning, Chris dragged himself out of bed and walked downstairs for what he assumed would be an incredibly boring conversation. When he got downstairs, however, he realised that the conversation might not have been as boring as he had originally thought. His sister, Eliza, was sat in the bean bag that she always hogged (much to Chris’ annoyance), though she looked as though she had been crying. As did his mom. 

“What’s going on?” Chris asked, “why are you crying?”

“You know that Eliza has been sick over these past few months, don’t you? And that she’s been having some tests at the hospital?” his dad said carefully. 

Chris nodded, “Yeah...”

“Well, we went to the hospital this morning and the doctor told us...the doctor told us that she has cancer,” 

The word seemed to echo around Chris’ head, but he just didn’t understand what his dad meant. How could Eliza have cancer? She was the healthiest person in the family! She didn’t smoke or drink and was always working out because of dancing. 

“No,” Chris said, chuckling slightly, “No, she doesn’t,” 

“Chris, darling, I know it’s a shock, but there’s no denying it,” his mother said tearfully. 

“Are you going to die?” Chris asked before he could stop himself. 

“Christopher!” his dad exclaimed, “that’s not a nice thing to-”

“Two months,” Eliza said, “I have two months,” 

For the first time in his life, Chris refused to go to Church. There were a fair few tears and a slight argument, but Chris stood his ground. He wanted to be alone. He _ needed _to be alone. There was too much going on his head and he didn’t think that sitting in a stuffy church for an hour would help him. 

The moment the door shut behind his family, Chris allowed himself to let go. He trashed his room, ripping the curtains from the window, thowing his books across the floor and yanking all the clothes from his wardrobe, taking care to screw them up as much as possible. By the time he had finished, he felt no better. Sobs taking over his body, Chris fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. 

“Why, Heavenly Father, why? Why are you letting this happen to her? Why are you letting this happen to _ us _? Why? Why? Why?” 

He curled up on his bedroom floor, whimpering _ why _over and over again. When his family returned from Church, he acted like nothing was wrong and decided that for the next eight weeks, he would be the best brother he could to Eliza. He was going to be there for her. Always. 

** _ _ **

Chris sat in Connor’s office, fiddling with some thread at the end of his tie. Two new recruits were going to be arriving the next day so naturally, Connor was stressed, but more so than usual. He kept on going over their paperwork and muttering their names over and over again under his breath. Chris didn’t know why he was so stressed. He had always managed to welcome new missionaries without anything going wrong, so why would this time be any different?

“This Kevin Price is meant to be very dedicated to the Church, you know,” Connor said, “one of them who’s never put a foot wrong,” 

Chris wrinkled his nose, “People like that are boring,” 

Connor rolled his eyes at him and laughed. 

“It’s probably lucky that you got stuck with a gay mission companion then, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, so we’re _ not _turning it off now?” Chris asked. 

“You’re the _ worst _, Poptarts,” 

“Yeah, I think I am, actually,” Chris muttered. 

“What?” Connor asked, putting his paperwork down, “It was a joke, Chris. You know I was joking, don’t you?”

Chris looked up at his mission companion and smiled. 

“Two years today, Connor,” 

Connor sighed and pushed his paperwork to the side. The good thing about Connor was that he always seemed to know what was going on without too much explanation, and Chris was not very good at explaining how he was feeling. 

“Why don’t you take the day off duties, Chris? Take a nap” Connor suggested, “Elder Michaels hasn’t got too much to do today, and neither has Elder Davis so I can just spread your jobs between the two of them. I’m sure they won’t mind,” 

It was a sign of how serious the conversation was that Connor was calling him by his actual name and not his nickname. 

“Can I just stay in here with you? I don’t want to be on my own,” Chris asked, “at least we won’t be breaking rule 72 then,” 

“I thought you said that people who didn’t break rules were boring?” 

They sat in silence for a while and Chris was just thankful for the company. There was no day worse than his sisters anniversary. He had promised her that he’d be there until the very end, and then he wasn’t. 

There was a knock on the door and Connor groaned and muttered, “Lord, give me strength,” before he put his District Leader voice on. 

“Come in!” 

The door opened revealing a very sheepish looking Elder Church. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “but it’s time for me to ring home,” 

“Oh!” Connor exclaimed jumping up, “Of course! Ever so sorry, Elder Church, I didn’t realise what time it was,” 

“It’s fine,” Church said hurriedly, “if you want me to come back-”

Connor simply waved him down, “Not at all, not at all. Elder Thomas and I will get out of your hair. Come _ on _, Elder,” Connor added forcefully and Chris realised that he had just been sat staring at Church. 

“Oh, yeah,” Chris muttered, his cheeks going red, “Yeah, we’ll get out of your way,” 

When the door shut behind them, Connor turned to face Chris with his eyebrows raised and arms folded. 

“Explain,” 

“Explain what?” Chris asked, trying (and failing) to maintain an air of casualness. 

“You and Elder Church!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Con,” Chris snapped. 

“Alright,” Connor said, “alright. We’ll drop it,” 

“Even if - even if there was something, we wouldn’t be able to...would we?” 

Connors eyes were suddenly filled with sadness and he shook his head. 

“No. You wouldn’t be able to,” 

Chris nodded, "Then I would like to drop it," 

** _ _ **

It was a cold, blustery day in Utah. Chris pulled his coat around him tighter and took his boyfriend's hand in his, not really wanting to get out of the car. He could actually feel James shivering and felt quite terrible for making him come out in this sort of weather. 

“You don’t need to come with me, you know,” Chris said, looking up at James, “I can go on my own,” 

“I know you can go on your own, I just want to come with you,” James shrugged. 

“It’ll be really depressing-” 

“I wasn’t expecting it to be a really fun day out,” 

"Alright, let’s just go,” Chris muttered, “just so you can stop being sarcastic,” 

“Not happening. Ever,”

Still, James fell silent as they entered the cemetery. Chris tread the familiar path to Eliza’s headstone, not really knowing what to expect. Thanks to the mission, it had been years since he had gone to see her and even though he had been back in America for almost three months, he had not been able to pluck up the courage to go. He was on there because James had said that he wanted to meet her. 

They came to a stop just before her headstone and tears immediately began to spill over Chris’ cheeks. He placed the bunch of poppies at the grave and spent a few minutes re-arranging all the other flowers so that it looked nice. It’s what she deserved, even if she couldn’t see it. 

“_ ‘Because life is fragile and death inevitable, we must make the most of each day,’ _” James read outloud, “Who said that?”

“Thomas Monson,” Chris replied, “she loved that quote towards the end. It’s all she ever said. She found so much comfort in the Church...” he trailed off, “and now I don’t even know what I believe,” 

James kissed his temple and put his arm around his shoulders, “And that’s OK, babe. I don’t know what I believe, anymore,” 

“You know, I always wonder what she’d think if she knew what had come of my mission,” Chris continued. 

“Your parents took it well,” James pointed out, “I’m sure she’d be the same,”

Chris shook his head, “They only took it well because they didn’t want to lose another child,” he rested his head on James shoulder and laughed, “I think she’d be more shocked that I had a boyfriend, actually,”

“Almost as shocked as I am that _ I _have a boyfriend,” James said. 

“Thank-you for coming with me, James,” Chris said, turning to look up at him. 

“Of course,” James said quietly, kissing him softly, “I’m always going to be here for you,”

“I love you,” 

“I love you, too,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Also, follow me on tumblr if you want! 
> 
> E-Sawyer.tumblr.com 
> 
> :)


	3. He Had a Friend, Steve Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Homophobia, Conversion Therapy.

* * *

> When I was in fifth grade  
I had a friend, Steve Blade
> 
> He and I were close  
As two friends could be  
We could be close  
One thing led to another  
And soon I would discover  
Wow  
I was having really strange feelings for Steve  
I thought about us, on a deserted island  
We're all alone  
We'd swim naked in the sea  
And then he'd try and...

Sixteen year old Connor McKinley sat in the school library, desperately trying to get through an essay about Romeo and Juliet. He just found the whole thing so boring. Although, he could understand why so many of the girls in his class found Romeo so endearing. Whether this was a normal thing or not was not a thing that Connor was going to focus on, which he was quite sure was the safest option. 

_ “Psst! Psst!” _

Connor looked up from his essay to find his best friend, Steve Blade, peeking behind a bookcase and gesturing for him to come over. 

“I’m working!” Connor hissed back. 

But Steve didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer and carried on gesturing for him to go over to him. Sighing, Connor packed his things and hurried over to Steve. 

“If I fail English, it’s your fault,” Connor snapped. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take the blame, whatever,” Steve said, grabbing Connor’s hand and dragging him out of the library, “I need to show you something,” 

Connor felt his cheeks heat up when Steve took his hand but pushed all _ those _feelings down. Thankfully, Steve was running so fast that the redness of Connor’s cheeks could easily be put down to exercise than anything else. 

Steve lead him out of school and behind the bleachers. 

“Where are we going? I have a-”

“_Ta-da!_” Steve exclaimed, holding out his hands. 

Taped to the back of the bleachers was a large poster. It took Connor a moment to fully register what had been written in colourful block capitals. 

**“CONNOR MCKINLEY - WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME?”**

“Are you - are you being serious?” Connor asked, his mouth hanging open. 

Steve nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Why not?”

“I can think of several reasons why not,” Connor muttered, thinking about all the Bishops in his life who had spent many a sermon condeming gay people to hell. 

“I know you're a Mormon and everything but...you know how you feel, Connor,” Steve said quietly, “and you know it’s not all that bad,” 

Connor felt himself smile. 

“You’re right,” 

And when they kissed, Connor could not understand how the two of them together could be so wrong.

** _ _ **

“Sometimes, I think you _want_ to be like this!” Bishop Keel snapped, venom in his words, “you’re not even trying!” 

“I am!” Connor exclaimed, tears streaming down his face, “I swear I am!” 

Bishop Keel shook his head and motioned for the Elder stood in the shadowy corner of the room to come forward. 

“We’ll go again,” 

Connor let out a sob, shaking his head. 

“Please, no, no, not again! I can’t do it again!” 

“You told me you wanted to change, Connor. It’s for the best, you know it is,” 

Connor whimpered slightly but nodded his head. It _was_ for the best. He should never have agreed to go to prom with Steve, he never should have kissed him, it wasn’t natural. He also shouldn’t have been so stupid to think that coming out to his family would be a good idea. 

“What was your friend called, Connor?” Keel asked. 

“Steve Blade,” Connor whispered. 

_ Slap. _

“Did you kiss him?”

“Yes,” 

_ Slap. _

“Did you engage in sexual activity with him?”

Connor could not bring himself to answer. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to think about it. 

“Answer me, Connor!” Keel hissed “did you engage in sexual activity with him?” 

“Yes,”

_ Slap. _

“I’m sorry!” Connor wailed, jerking away from the Elder, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I promise! I promise! I’ll turn it off, I swear!”

“Oh, Connor, I wish I could believe you,” 

Connor’s conversion therapy lasted for three years until he could finally escape to his mission. When he was sent to Uganda, he couldn’t help but feel like Heavenly Father was punishing him; he knew what happened to gay people out there, and he was keen to avoid that happening to him. Heavenly Father was _ definitely _testing him when Kevin Price walked through the front door of the mission hut for the first time. 

There really was no reason for someone to be _ that _attractive. Connor had hoped that Kevin’s ego being so big would put him off, but for some unknown reason, he found that even more attractive. These thoughts did not help with the Hell dreams, but they were a little more bearable whenever Kevin Price popped up in them - which was almost every night. 

Perhaps the biggest problem with Elder Price was the fact that he seemed quite determined to make Connor’s life harder than it needed to be. He could deal with him being obnoxious, could persevere when Price decided that he wanted to transfer to a different mission and was even patient when he was discovered unconscious at the bus stop. The only time Connor very nearly lost his cool with Price was when he decided that they were going to stay in District 9 despite the fact that they had just been ex-communicated. 

After this, Kevin calmed down. He wasn’t as obnoxious and even managed to apologise to his fellow Elders for being so annoying. None of this was a problem. 

No, the problem was that he was so..._ Kevin. _

He was outrageously attractive with outrageously perfect hair and an outrageously adorable smile. And although Connor _ technically _wasn’t meant to turn it off anymore and although Arnold had decided that there was nothing wrong with being gay, Connor couldn’t stop himself from falling into old habbits. He prayed to a God that he wasn’t sure he believed in anymore and begged for him to make him straight.

He lay in bed one night, wondering how different his life would be if he was actually straight. He was quite sure that there would be a lot less stress and trauma. 

“Con,” Chris grumbled from the other bed, “there’s someone knocking on the door,” 

“You heard it first, you answer it,” Connor replied, stifling a yawn. 

“Which one of us is district leader?” 

Groaning, Connor pulled a pair of trousers on over his temple garments and stumbled over the door. For some unknown reason, Elder Price was stood there.

“Is there a reason you’re knocking on my door at three in the morning, Elder Price?” Connor asked, “because - are you OK?”

“No,” Kevin whimpered, his face shiny with tears, “No. I’m not OK. I need help,” 

Connor blinked the sleep out of his eyes and nodded, “OK. Alright. Um, Poptarts? Will you, will you go and sleep in Elder Price and Elder Cunningham's room please?”

Poptarts nodded and hurried out of the room, casting a worried look at Connor before shutting the door behind him. 

Connor slowly sat down on Poptarts bed and patted the space next to him, inviting Price to sit next to him, which he did, albeit a little hesitantly. 

“What’s wrong, Elder?” Connor asked. 

“I’m having gay thoughts and I don’t hate it as much as I should,” Kevin whispered, “why don’t I hate it, Elder?” 

Connor smiled at him, “because you’re comfortable with who you are, Elder, and that’s OK,” 

Kevin shook his head, visibly getting more upset. He brought his hands up to his face and sobbed into them. 

“Hey, Hey, Kevin, look at me,” Connor said quietly, pulling his hands from his face, “There is _ nothing _wrong with who you are just like there is nothing wrong with who I am. I’m still trying to work through it all, but you will be OK. We both will,” 

Kevin sniffled and looked into Connor’s eyes, and Connor suddenly realised what a beautiful shade of brown they were, even when they were bloodshot from crying.

“Do you really think that?” Kevin asked. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Kevin,” Connor promised, “We’re both going to be OK,” 

When Kevin enveloped Connor in a hug, he actually believed what he was saying. 

** _ _ **

Connor stood outside of his office, tapping his foot impatiently. Kevin was inside on the phone to his parents, and Connor had decided that since it was an extremely important phone call, he’d give him space. He looked down at his watch and sighed, it had almost been an hour. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

Finally, the door opened. Connor spun around to face Kevin, but his expression was unreadable, blank, almost. 

“What did they say?” Connor asked, stepping into the room and kicking the door shut. 

“They weren’t...they weren’t _ thrilled _, they just weren’t happy, either,” he said quietly, “they said that when I need to come home I can but...but they didn’t want to meet you,” 

Connor sighed and put his arms around his boyfriend's neck. They had almost been together a year, and this wasn’t exactly how they wanted to celebrate. 

“One day, they’ll understand,” Connor said, standing on his tiptoes to place a soft kiss on Kevin’s lips. 

“And if they don’t?” 

“You’ll always have me,”

Kevin smiled and leant down to kiss Connor. Even after a year, he still made butterflies erupt in Connor’s stomach. 

“I love you, Connor,”

“I love you too, Kev,” 

There were many things in life that Connor was sorry for, but being himself was not one of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! 
> 
> Comments/kudos always appreciated!!!


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